WordSisters

Author: Ellen Shriner

  • Revising My 10-Point Plan for Happiness (a.k.a. the Lure of Possibility)

    More than 30 years ago, a good friend and I regularly launched what we mockingly called our “10-Point Plan for Happiness.” Our plans always included these steps: Quit going to the bars so much, especially during the week. Stop dating losers. Work out more. No more French fries/potato chips/chocolate or whatever indulgence was tempting us that week. Oh yeah, and save more money. But over the years, I’ve shortened up the list.

    Even as my friend and I made those resolutions, we knew we were likely to backslide.

    But there’s something very appealing about setting goals and having a plan—it helped me feel in control of my life. Setting goals is the means to accomplishing something and the counterpoint to daydreaming, but never doing. If I just follow these simple steps, I can make my life better—who wouldn’t want that?

    Butterfly

    Believing change is possible is ingrained in the American psyche. The lure of possibility is undeniable. If you’re fat and out of shape you can be transformed, especially if you win a chance to be on The Biggest Loser. If you’re clueless about clothes and your personal appearance, Stacy and Clinton can reform you on What Not to Wear. If you’re a philandering politician, you can humble yourself, ask your spouse and voters to forgive you and after some time has passed, you can be re-elected like U.S. representative Mark Sanford (ex-governor of South Carolina).

    I believe real change is possible, but it isn’t fast or easy—it takes a lot more effort than making lists as I did in my 20’s or a going on a whirlwind clothes-buying spree. The people I’ve known who have reinvented themselves worked hard at it for years.

    Sometimes my life feels like it’s one big Continuous Quality Improvement project. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that the changes I need to undertake are refinements, not sweeping transformations. So I try to be a better writer, and I tinker with how to squeeze in more time for projects I enjoy, travel, family, friends, and fun. That focus has made my life richer and more fulfilled.

    I no longer believe that I’m capable of making major improvements to myself . . . or that I even need to. That’s not smug self-satisfaction, but another way of saying I’m learning to accept my flaws. I’ll keep trying to think before I speak. I’ll also try not to offer advice unless asked. However, I know I’m going to backslide sometimes, and even though I’ll fall short on those goals (and others), I’m still basically OK.

    If the goal is happiness, perfection is not required  . . . or even useful. So my current Plan for Happiness has a mere three points:

    1. Be kinder to myself— accept and forgive my shortcomings.
    2. Continue to focus on being healthy (food, exercise, stress management), but don’t fret too much about any of those items.
    3. Continue to spend more time doing what I love, less on what I don’t.

    What works for you?

  • How I’m Overcoming my Resistance to Social Media—One Writer’s Insights

    As a writer, I am constantly torn between writing (which I actively enjoy) and marketing via social media (which inspires considerably less enthusiasm). Yet, if I want to discover more people who are interested in this blog and who might want to read my memoir one day, I need to make friends with strangers. Social media helps me do that. But what’s the right mix of social media activities? How do I keep up with my current friends while meeting new ones?

    Screen Shot 2014-02-21 at 10.20.25 AM

    By nature I’m a social person. I visit with a number of people—phone calls, lunches, dinners, book group, writers’ group. I enjoy our in-depth interactions immensely. I like the time spent on half-hour phone calls, two-hour meals, and conversations about books or writing. But the high-quality visits leave me with less time for social media.

    I know I should find more time to post on Facebook, Goodreads, Pinterest, LinkedIn, Instagram, or learning some new app—but when? As a reality check, I made a list of all the stuff I try to do every week. I impressed myself. Wow! I am busy. But so are a lot of people, yet they make time for social media. Certainly I can squeeze in a few more hours per week.

    Unfortunately, social media moves fast and needs daily or even hourly attention. Since I check Facebook only twice a week, Facebook assumes I don’t care enough, so these days, I only get updates about five people.

    Pinterest holds no interest and I’m way behind on Goodreads.

    Although I keep up with LinkedIn, until now, I’ve reserved that channel for the other side of my writing career—marketing communications.

    Performance anxiety has kept me from Twitter. Even though I write for a living, headlines and short text aren’t my strong suits. I write l o o o n n g text. How will I ever manage being clever and interesting in 140 characters?!? I am somewhat encouraged to discover that Joyce Carol Oates, who’s the epitome of a busy prolific writer, was also a reluctant tweeter.

    I’m glad to engage acquaintances intellectually. I’ve got a ton of opinions about politics, books, and life in general. I like learning new things and exchanging ideas—maybe that’s the key. Perhaps I need to think of Twitter as a playground of ideas, commentary, and 140-character conversations.

    After reviewing this inventory, I realize that like Dan Blank (a great resource for writers) maybe I need to focus—let go of a few social media options (Facebook, Pinterest) and concentrate more on others—start Twitter, give Goodreads another try, and introduce my business friends to my blog via LinkedIn.

    Please share your insights about social media—what do you like to do and why? What works for you?

  • Why I’m Done Deferring Joy

    Recently, I’ve decided that I’m done “saving it for good.” Nothing’s too good to use. Nothing’s too good to wear. 

    Mimmie's lemonade set
    Mimmie’s lemonade set

    When Mimmie (my father’s mother) died, I received her handpainted Nipon lemonade set. She’d promised it to me because I’d admired it for years. I also received Grandma’s (my mother’s mother) crystal goblets after Grandma died. I am pleased to own both sets—they are part of my heritage and they remind me of women I love. For 30 years, I’ve “saved them for good,” dusting them but rarely using them.

    I also have dresses, blouses, and a suit I’ve saved for good, which means I rarely wear them. Too often, the clothes are too small or out of style before I need them again. I wind up giving them away—which is OK, maybe someone else can use them—but why didn’t I use them?

    I don’t know whether or not “saving it for good” is a generational phenomenon. As a Baby Boomer whose parents experienced the Great Depression, I was taught that it was important to hang on to and care for the things you had, because somebody worked hard to get them, and you might not to be able to replace them if they got ruined. But somewhere along the line that practical impulse got subverted.

    My special things began to assume too much importance—they had to be protected in glass breakfronts, handwashed and dried, and only admired occasionally. That’s the impulse I’m rejecting. My sons never knew my grandmothers, so the meaning and memories go when I go. If the lemonade cups get chipped, so be it. They are meant to be used and enjoyed, not wind up in an estate sale. I will think of Mimmie and Grandma more often if I use their things regularly than if the items stay in my cupboard.

    Grandma's goblets
    Grandma’s goblets

    I’m also rejecting the idea of deferring joy—that there’s some bigger better moment in the future—some truly important occasion when I should dress up or use crystal. That’s akin to waiting until retirement to travel and then having a heart attack or some other debilitating illness and not being able to go.

    Instead, I’m choosing to live in the moment more—I’m not saving for a rainy day or waiting for the right time. Well, OK, I’m still saving money because, if heredity is any guide, I’m going to live a long time. But I’m spending more joy right now.

    So I’ll use Mimmie’s cups to drink iced tea and sip cabernet from Grandma’s goblets. And when I show up at work in a dress or suit, my coworkers can wonder if I have a job interview, but you’ll know the real story!

    Do you save anything for good? How do you seize the day and spend more joy right now?